Always Thinking
by DeniseV
Summary: Starsky and Hutch work hard to solve a double murder, and are rewarded with vacation time. Sometimes it's harder to tell whether or not a cop is safer at work than at play.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so maybe that's not how I intended to make my point. And now I have one pissed off partner on my hands. The lessons learned from that frightening day when he almost died, well did die technically, were many, but one that I didn't learn from that day was how to keep my partner from getting mad when I challenged his judgment. Sometimes I question whether I really could be the brains of _any_ outfit.

Starsky's a good cop and his instincts are amazing. He's the reason I'm alive today and I trust him more than anyone. He always has my welfare at the top of his priority list. I am so grateful that he is my friend, my partner. He is the best person I know and I cannot imagine life without him. So the choice he made on this encounter today was perplexing. And the case wasn't even started yet. His reaction was inappropriate in my book, not smart; I sometimes have to learn the hard way just how smart my partner really is.

We had been asked by Captain Dobey to take over an investigation that had been started by some detectives over in Vice. A sting they had been working for months went bad and started a cascade of events that ultimately resulted in some dead bodies stumbled upon by some vagrants in an unused warehouse down by the old docks off Pacifica Boulevard. These docks were no longer used by any shipping fleets, the more modern facilities up the coast having taken all the business away from the area. Many of the warehouses were totally abandoned. Some still had legitimate storage operations going on. But most were housing some sort of illegal activity, be it storage of drugs, arms or other illicit goods. There was also a fair amount of homeless people making use of these buildings. Finding two dead bodies amongst the clusters of warehouses down there was not surprising.

"You say that both these guys were expected to show the night you planned your big bust?" Starsky asked Detective Donohue, the lead investigator from Vice on the Kohlman investigation. "You're sure these are the guys?"

Donohue looked with disdain at my partner. "Starsky, I've been at this a little longer than you have. I think I can recognize two players in an operation I've been working for seven months." The venom coming from Donohue's entire demeanor was hard for anyone to miss.

"Hey, look, I just wanna make sure we got the right understanding here. We're gonna be taking over this as a homicide, Donohue. We gotta make sure we're gettin' all the info we can from you. Cross-departmental courtesy, you know what I mean?" Starsky was trying his best to remain calm and professional, which only served to further agitate the already steaming vice detective.

"Right, Starsky, whatever you say. Look, here's the background. Mitchell, that's Joseph Mitchell, the tall, thin rail over there, was a long time runner for Kohlman's operations. He would take stuff in assorted pleasure craft back and forth from Mexico and make drop offs all up the southern California coast. The other one, the big black one, was muscle for the organization, Arthur Morton. They were rarely seen together throughout the course of our surveillance. It's a little disconcerting and confusing how they both ended up here dead. Can't give you anything on that." Donohue stopped, looking at Starsky and me like he was waiting for questions. I didn't think he had provided quite enough information to be finished even a passing briefing on these two.

"Is that all you got?" Starsky asked, incredulous. Uh oh, I thought. That's a tactical error if ever there was one. Starsky was already rubbing this guy the wrong way. He must have sensed that. I decided to jump in.

"Why don't we stop by the precinct and pick up the file on these guys later?" I asked, taking Donohue's attention away from my partner. "After we go through the file, if we have any questions, we'll get back to you."

Donohue was happy to accept the offer. Vice never liked it when they had to turn anything over to another department. They seemed to think that we would not be able to maintain the proper level of covertness to keep their investigation under wraps. Starsky and I could never figure out what it was about these guys. Did they really think that we would do anything purposefully that might jeopardize a case or a fellow officer?

We finished our work at the site and left the crime scene folks to do their thing. Starsky and I headed for the car. "Why'd you let Donohue off the hook?" Starsky asked, his expression quizzical and his attitude nothing short of angry.

"Starsk, we can't afford to have Donohue or anyone else from Vice ticked off at us right now. They have information we need. We don't wanna be starting from scratch here and it's in our best interest to stay on good terms with these guys." I didn't know where he was coming from with this attitude.

"What're you saying? Do you think I said something to piss him off?"

"Well, pal, how about 'Is that all you got?' Not exactly Dale Carnegie, my friend." Starsky looked at me like I just grew two heads.

"You're nuts! I wasn't sayin' anything you weren't thinkin'." My partner responded pointedly.

"Yeah, but I WAS thinking, so I didn't say it." Well, there it was. Was I thinking just then? Not really. I just had to push it. Couldn't just let it go. All we had to do was get in the car and drive back to headquarters and pick up the files. We'd get our information without having to spend more time with that bonehead Donohue and we could have finished work and headed over to Huggy's for some dinner and pool and some cold, frosty ones. Now, I was lucky if I got a ride home from my partner.

Starsky looked like he wanted to say something to me. He was shaking his head, but just barely, and he looked like he was having a conversation in his head about what to do, or say next. But I could tell he was holding back. Starsk is not the least bit mean-spirited, and saying ugly things is not in his nature. I was expecting a tongue lashing anyway, but all I got was, "You ready to call it a day?"

I have to admit that I didn't like this one bit. Now I was going to have to deal not only with a pissed off partner, but with one who was going to let this stew for a while. I would rather just get this argument over with and move on. Our relationship went through such a difficult time before Starsky was shot, during the whole Kira fiasco, that we found out the hard way that the best thing for our relationship was to be honest with each other. I know Starsky had something to say, but he seemed more inclined to keep it to himself for now. I didn't want to push him, so I decided to see where he wanted to take this moment.

"Sure, shall we head over to Huggy's?" I asked. I think I seemed calm, although my stomach was doing flips.

"Yeah, just for a brew or two. I'm a little tired, and we got a lot of work tomorrow if we want to make headway on these murders."

That was probably better than I could have hoped for. Starsky was not so mad at me that he didn't want to spend time with me. "Good, let's head over."

The silence in the car was overwhelming. I had to get my friend to talk about this. I did not want to go back to the way it was between us before. We had come too far in our relationship for that.

"Starsk, I wanted to say something about my comment earlier today." Starsky was driving and looking straight ahead, but I could see his jaw tighten.

"Which comment was that, Hutch?" There was little doubt that the earlier encounter had been weighing on Starsky, based on his cold response. It was a calculated response and it definitely put me off a bit.

"Well, I think you know." I didn't want to postpone discussing this and clearly Starsky had been steaming about this all afternoon. I think maybe I wanted Starsky to start the discussion so that I wouldn't have to say the words again.

"I think you'll have to refresh my memory. I've had a busy day, ya know. Had a lot of conversations, heard a lot of comments." Now he was just toying with me, which I took as a good sign.

"Fine. You're gonna make me say it, aren't you? You know, when I told you that you weren't thinking. I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

"Okay. Exactly what did you mean by it then?" Starsky didn't seem mad at this point; he just seemed to be looking for some understanding of where the comment came from.

"Sometimes you speak before you think. We all do it occasionally, and that's all that I meant by it. I don't want you to think that I think you're not thinking. That's not how I feel." I had a hunch this wasn't turning out so well. And the smirk on Starsky's face just reinforced my hunch.

"That's gotta be one of the dumbest explanations I've heard from you Hutch. I think I know why you said it. And you know, partner, we should be honest with each other. It's always worked out best for us to just say what we feel." Like I said before, Starsky has great instincts, so I decided to let him go ahead and explain why he thinks I said it.

"At some level, you really do feel that I don't think. You believe everything I do is from my gut. That I feel more than I think. And you trust my feelings more that you trust my thoughts." David Starsky, with his PhD in street smarts, just got to the crux of the issue, and sounded like his PhD was more likely in psychology. He was right, even though I hated to admit it. And I knew if I admitted to that right then that I would be hurting the feelings of the one person whose opinion means more to me than anyone else's. The one person whose feelings I never wanted to hurt ever again. I was beginning to feel a little panicked. How was I going to respond to this?

Starsky pulled up to park just down from the entrance to Huggy's. I think I bought myself some time, as Starsky grabbed his keys and said, "Let's go in and finish this over a beer." He seemed in better spirits, just being able to get his feelings out, and I had a few more minutes to think about how I would respond to his insight.

We went to the bar and ordered our beers, and said hello to Huggy and we gabbed for a while, but I couldn't tell you now what we spoke about. I was so focused on what I was going to say to Starsky, I don't even remember the beginning of our pool game. Apparently we also decided to order food, even though Starsky had said earlier that he just wanted to go in for a drink. I felt numb all over with worry about not hurting my partner. Leave it to my partner to let me off the hook.

"Earth to Hutch, Earth to Hutch, come in Hutch." Starsky said in his best static muffled voice. The technique was something we'd honed over the years whenever we needed to slip out of a conversation with HQ. I came to, and started to explain myself, even though I still didn't know what I was going to say.

"Hutch, I know what you're doin'. And you can quit it." Starsky was smiling that great Starsky smile that melted women's hearts and warmed mine. There was nothing better than being on the receiving end of that look.

"What I'm doing, Starsk, is having a beer and playing a game of pool. What's it look like I'm doing?"

"That may be what you're doing physically, but mentally you're beating yourself up about what you said earlier. You really need to stop doing that. I got over it a while ago. You don't think I'd let something like that ruin a perfectly good night out, do ya?" My partner. I think I'll keep him.

"Oh, by the way Hutch, you did know that Donohue and I went to high school together, right. Played sports, dated the same girls, had a lot of laughs. Thought that might help you understand where I was comin' from today." He had that look on his face that screamed "Gotcha!" He'll pay for that. But probably not tonight. It looked like we were back on track and I wanted to enjoy the evening. He was right when he said earlier that we were going to be working hard tomorrow to get a jump-start on cracking this case. We'll just call this the 'last hurrah', the last time we'd have a chance to relax until we solved the mystery of those two dead bodies.

"Hutch, what're ya doin' here? I'm drivin'. I'm not riding around in that heap today. It's gonna be the hottest day of the year and you think your car's gonna make it through the day? I'm not gonna be stuck in the heat waitin' for a tow because of this piece of…."

"Uh, Starsk, did you forget that you're following me to my new mechanic and we're dropping my car off for service?" Starsky must have lost some brain cells from drinking last night. His one or two beers turned into quite the series of drinks, especially after we met up with some lovely ladies to extend our night out into the wee hours of the morning.

"Oh," he said, the light bulb above his head finally coming on . Yeah, I guess I forgot. Let's get goin' then." He practically bounced to the Torino. How can someone who drank so much be in such a good mood?

"Starsk, are you on something? You seem a little too chipper this morning after the night you had."

"Hutch, I think you're thinkin' of someone else. It was a tall blonde detective that was drinking like a fish last night." Well, I wasn't trying to say that I didn't imbibe myself, but I swore Starsky kept up with me. Maybe I was more out of it than I thought. I'm certainly not feeling like bouncing around like Tigger over there.

"Hutch, let's get rollin'." Ugh, it was going to be a helluva day.

We dropped my car at the mechanic, not without a concerted effort on Starsky's part to talk me out of this place and to take the car to Merl's. His argument would never sway me in my determination to keep all fake or real fur out of my car. And although Starsky swears by him as a mechanic and wouldn't let anyone else touch his car, I wouldn't allow the man to touch my car again if you paid me. I was in the passenger seat of the tomato before Starsky could finish his argument.

"Fine. Just don't come cryin' to me when you can't get that two ton pile of metal to start." Starsky was nothing if not persistent.

"Okay. Can we get a move on to the precinct, please? We need to start going through the files vice gave us. There must be something there that can get us started." I was not feeling very good about this case and wanted to move on any leads the files might provide.

"Yeah, we should also have the preliminary autopsy reports available sometime this morning. Hopefully we can get something from that, too." I knew Starsky would offer to head down to the coroner's office. He was trying to get the new assistant down there to go out with him.

"I really think that you're not Jenny's type, Starsk." It's always fun to get my partner started, and I still owed him for the Donohue thing.

"Her name is Janey, and I don't know what you mean. She's 'this close' to goin' out with me." Starsky placed his thumb and pointer finger together to emphasize his point.

"I don't know Starsk, it seems to me that it's taking her a while to get the Starsky Charm."

"I'm an acquired taste." I chuckled. My partner was something else.

We dove into the files. We found one thing in the file that was curious: two current addresses for Morton. The information about the addresses was disbursed throughout the file, but both appeared to be fairly current. It seemed that the vice guys either didn't pick up on that or didn't find this to be important to their investigation. Although the two dead guys were expected at the failed bust, they were not big potatoes by any stretch. We went to check out both listed addresses for Morton and also paid a visit to Mitchell's house.

The visit to the first Morton house proved futile. And after seeing the second Morton house, Starsky and I figured we understood some of what was going on.

"So this guy is playing both sides of somethin'." Starsky said as we got back in the car. "Something has to be funding that house, and I don't think it's his regular job as Kohlman's muscle."

"Yeah, but there's still nothing in there that points at all to any obvious illegal activity and certainly nothing to answer why these guys were murdered." We had one more visit to make, Mitchell's house, and then we were going to head to check out their employers of record. They both had, according to the files from vice, 'legitimate' jobs they used as a cover for their work as runner and muscle for Kohlman.

We arrived at Mitchell's house and were disturbed to see the front door wide open. We approached the front of the house, and made our regular entrance into the building, Starsky going low, me high. We found nothing in the living room and proceeded to check out the rest of the house. Starsky checked out the back rooms downstairs and the kitchen, while I headed upstairs.

My checks of the first two bedrooms were uneventful and I headed into the third bedroom. I was coming up on the closet and just as I reached for the doorknob, the door crashed open, knocking my gun from my hand and knocking my head. Hard. I'm pretty sure someone flew past me at that point, but my vision was definitely not good for a moment, and I was seeing stars. I shook my head to try to clear it, which provided mixed results. I could see better, but now I felt like the room was spinning. I had to get a grip, because I didn't want whomever it was to surprise my partner. I was unfortunately too late, because I heard what sounded like a couple of bodies tumbling down the stairs. I yelled for my partner, grabbed my gun and ran to see what happened.

I gripped hard on the railing as I made my way down the stairs. There was a bundle of arms and legs at the bottom of the stairs fighting to separate. The person who was almost successful in knocking me out was now fighting a losing battle with my partner to get away. Starsky is fast and slippery in a fight and his opponent here was pretty quickly subdued, and ending up with Starsky's knee jammed into his back while my partner was efficiently getting the handcuffs on. I reached the last step and noticed that Starsky was favoring his right hand.

"Hey, you caught the guy." Starsky, panting, looked up at me and immediately jumped up and eased me down on the step.

"Hey, you're not lookin' so good there, partner." He was obviously hurting, but immediately put his own injury on hold to look after me. "He got ya' good, didn't he?"

"Yeah, using a closet door as a weapon." I was feeling better already. It felt good to know that this wasn't something I had to worry my partner about. I was more concerned with they way he was holding his hand.

"What's wrong with your hand?" I asked.

"Ah, the creep fell on it after he charged into me on the stairs. We both took a header and my hand was in the wrong place. It hurts like hell, might be broken. Shit." Starsky was really looking like he was going to pass out. It was obviously hurting badly.

"Okay, partner. Stay with this guy and I'm going to call for backup. I exchanged places with Starsky, making sure he was sitting before I left and called in for backup.

I went back in and turned the guy that Starsky had cuffed face up. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" I demanded, anger from my partner's injury mixing with the natural high of a potential dangerous situation avoided. "What's your name and what's your business here?"

"Bite me!" This was not going to be easy. My prediction about a helluva a day was coming true.

The guy seemed no more than seventeen or eighteen years old. He was certainly old enough to be tried as an adult should it come to that. At minimum, some of the charges would include breaking and entering and resisting arrest, both of which could get him jail time.

"Look, kid. We just want to know what you're doing here. I'm Detective Hutchinson and the guy you knocked down the stairs is Detective Starsky. We're out of Metro Division. Now, you do have options, here. Your best bet is to simply tell us who you are and why you're here. At worst, we take you in and book you on breaking and entering and resisting arrest. What's it gonna be?"

"I…I wasn't breaking in. M…Mr. Mitchell was lettin' me stay here in one of the rooms upstairs." The kid seemed real scared. Smart kid.

"What can you tell us about Mr. Mitchell?" Starsky asked, a little subdued. We needed to wrap this up for now so we could get Starsky's hand looked at.

"He w…was a s…security guard over at Lincoln Industrial Supply. He worked the n…night shift. I hardly ever saw him."

"How did you know Mr. Mitchell?" I asked. This ping-pong technique that we used often distracted the perps into telling us more than they would have without the back and forth. It sort of knocked the equilibrium right out from under them.

"I work part time at Lincoln delivering mail, sometimes I drive packages across town to their warehouse." This was getting interesting.

"Where is this warehouse?" Starsky asked, still holding his right hand in his left, both resting in his lap.

"Warehouse 19, off Pacifica." Starsky and I looked at each other.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Wes Andrews," he replied.

"Do you have any ID on you?" I asked.

"Yeah, in my wallet in my back pocket." I took the wallet out of his pocket and checked it out. According to the license, he had just turned 19. The address didn't match Mitchell's though.

"What's this address?" I asked, wondering what this kid's story was.

"My parents. I haven't lived with them for over a year. What's goin' on? Are you gonna arrest me?" The kid seemed scared, not because he'd done anything wrong, but because he thought he was going to jail. It's an important distinction when dealing with suspects. If they've got something to hide, or are feeling guilty about something, they tend to act more nervous than scared.

"Why did you tear outta here like you did?" Starsky asked.

"I thought you guys were here to rob Mr. Mitchell. I wanted to get out 'cause I didn't know what else you might do." This seemed plausible, but I got the feeling there was something else he wanted to tell us.

"Is there anything else you can tell us about Mr. Mitchell?" Starsky asked the kid. He also sensed that there was something not being said.

"Um, uh, no." Okay, we weren't finished here, but the uniforms had arrived and we decided that we would finish this interrogation down at headquarters, and after I took Starsky to the emergency room.

We walked to the car and I opened the passenger-side door for my partner. He looked at me and asked, "Are you okay to drive? We can probably call in and get someone to come pick us up and drive my car back to the precinct."

I grabbed Starsky's left arm and squeezed him affectionately. "I'm fine. Get in, I'll close the door behind you." He carefully got in the car and we were soon off to the ER.

We were practically escorted through the ER to an examining room. Starsky was in the hospital for so long after the Gunther shooting that he became a minor celebrity, especially once it was certain that he would recover well enough to at least be able to live a fairly normal life. There were still no guarantees at that point that he would make it back to the force, but the hospital personnel had adopted Starsky as one of their great miracle recoveries. Everyone always made a special effort now whenever we came in for even the most minor cuts and scrapes.

"David, Ken, nice to see you. I'd rather see you in the mall or someplace other than here." Evelyn Cooper was one of the trauma nurses who worked on Starsky that day. "What have you done there, David."

"Some guy knocked him down some stairs and then had the nerve to fall on his hand," I answered for my partner.

Starsky looked at Evelyn and then rolled his eyes. She laughed and took Starsky's hand, gently feeling it for breaks. She said, "I don't think anything's broken, but we'll have the doctor take a look and he'll probably want to take some x-rays. Just lay back here and the doctor will see you in just a few minutes." Starsky laid back and shut his eyes. He looked tired.

The doctor came in about ten minutes later. He asked me to wait outside, but Starsky asked if it would be okay if I stayed. This was a fairly new ER doctor who had not been subjected to our unique ways. He looked over to Evelyn, who appeared to nod slightly her assent, which the good doc followed. He was fine with it so long as I stayed out of the way.

Even though we told him that the injury was to Starsky's hand, the doc insisted on doing a full check on my partner. He had Starsky undress while he went to check on test results that had just come back for another patient. As I helped Starsky out of his clothes and into the gown, I noticed a bruise on his lower chest.

"Hey, Starsk, are you feeling sore around your chest? You have a bruise."

"Where?" He seemed genuinely surprised, so I thought he must not be in pain.

"Right here." I reached out and touched the bruised area, and Starsky winced and pulled back a little.

"I guess it does hurt, at least when you touch it like that. I haven't been feeling too good since I got crushed in the fall, but I thought it was just the pain in my hand and just getting tired from our late night last night." He wiggled his eyes like Groucho Marx. It was good that he was still feeling up to joking.

The doctor came back and gave Starsky a thorough once-over. He ordered x-rays for his chest and hand and left again to work on other patients. I left Starsky to rest while I called in to Dobey.

"Hutchinson, how's Starsky? Norman and Johnson said he hurt his hand when you were trying to subdue a perp. And when will you be back here to finish up with Andrews?"

"We're going to be a little while longer here, Cap. Starsky may also have cracked or at least bruised a rib or two in the fall. We're waiting on x-rays. Shouldn't be too much longer. I think we'll probably be back within the next two hours." Close enough to the end of the day to head out, but knowing my partner, he would want to finish up with the kid and make a decision about keeping him just today rather than take advantage of our right to hold him twenty four hours without charging him. He wouldn't want to keep the kid in lock-up if he shouldn't be there.

"Okay. See you in a while. Tell Starsky I hope he's feeling better."

"Thanks, Cap."

The doc came back with mixed news. Starsky had suffered some severely bruised ribs and would ache from that for a few days at least. His hand sustained two injuries. His thumb had been dislocated and the wrist badly sprained. The doctor said Starsky was very lucky that the suspect landed at the angle he did. Just a few degrees to the left and Starsky's wrist would have snapped. Just the description seemed to leave Starsky a little queasy. It didn't do much for me, either.

The doc came over and explained that he would have to reset Starsky's thumb. Apparently it was the dislocated thumb that was causing most of the pain. Unfortunately, the doc was going to have to cause some more pain, however momentary it might be. He explained that it would feel similar to the way it feels when someone resets your shoulder when it becomes dislocated. We had both been through that before. Then the doctor said it would be a little more painful because it would feel like his nerve endings were shooting sharp pains up his arm. It would be painful, but just briefly.

The doctor asked Starsky if he was ready. I sat down next to my partner and said, "Grab my arm." He grabbed my left forearm tightly with his left hand, and I pressed my right hand on his shoulder. "Ready?" I asked, looking him in the eye.

"Yeah, let's get it over with. We got work to do."

The doctor reset the thumb, and Starsky grabbed tighter to my arm. Starsky's an amazingly strong guy and my arm was starting to feel the pain.

"Okay, all done. Feel any better?" The doctor asked.

"Yeah, a little." Starsky was sweating now, but seemed to be relieved that this part was over.

"It'll feel even better in a few minutes. We're going to give you a brace to wear on your wrist. You should keep it on for the next week, except when you're showering, but especially when you're working or sleeping. It's easier to remember to just keep it on unless you're bathing. I'm also going to give you a prescription for pain, actually two, since I now have some background on you guys. One prescription is for at night, which has a slight sedative effect as well. The other one is just a higher dosage of ibuprofen. It'll help with swelling and pain and it won't make you drowsy. Please take them. They will make you feel better."

"Thanks, doc. When can I take my partner out of here?" I knew Starsky was getting antsy and I wanted to get him out of there are soon as possible.

"We're waiting for the brace to come up from supply. I'll get started on the discharge paperwork. By the time the brace gets here, you'll be free to go." The doctor reached out to Starsky to shake his hand. He took Starsky's hand gingerly, but affectionately. "It was good to meet you, Detective."

"Thanks. Nice to meet you. And thanks for this." He raised his right hand to the doc.

We headed back to Metro. We needed to finish up with Andrews, and then we could call it a day. I was definitely feeling ready for some sleep; I'm sure Starsky was right behind me.

We had Andrews brought in to an interrogation room.

"Am I under arrest?" It seemed a few hours in a holding cell really spooked the kid. "'Cause I didn't do anything. I mean, I seen some stuff, but I never did nothin'."

"What do you mean you saw stuff? What did you see?" Starsky asked quietly. He softened his voice to try to calm the kid down.

"The other night, uh night before last, I was down at the warehouse…."

"The Lincoln warehouse, warehouse 19?" I interrupted.

"No, Lincoln's warehouse is 17. I heard Mr. Mitchell talking to some other guys. He was getting real, um, angry-like, and he started threatening one of the guys. A big black guy. I think his name was Morty."

"Would you be able to recognize this guy in a line-up or in a picture?" The kid didn't know the guy he was describing was dead and it seemed to be working better not to tell him yet.

"Uh, yeah, probably. Anyway, Mr. Mitchell was yelling at this Morty guy and then some other guys started in the argument, too. One of 'em was the boss."

"The boss?" asked Starsky.

"Yeah, Mr. Kohlman. He started sayin' that he knew Mr. Mitchell had been stealin' from him and that Morty was helping him sell the stuff."

"What stuff, Wes?" I asked, trying to stay calm and keep his confidence.

"Well, they said coke and horse, but I didn't think he would get much money selling soda, but I guess he could do better sellin' horses." I looked at Starsky. Is this kid that naïve, or is he just slow. Or is he pulling one on us. I didn't think it was the last. He still seemed too genuinely scared to be pulling a fast one on us.

"What else did you see?" It was like we were being fed our case on a silver platter. All we would have to do is put a pretty bow on it and hand it over to the D.A. Of course, there was the necessity now to try to protect this kid so that he would still be available to testify.

"That was all I saw at first. But I heard Mr. Kohlman say, gimme that. I wanna do this myself. Then Mr. Kohlman walked over to Mr. Mitchell and shot him. Then he turned and shot Morty." The kid started to cry. "Mr. Mitchell was always so nice to me. Do you think I'll be able to stay in Mr. Mitchell's house now?"

"We'll make sure you have a place to stay, kid." Starsky said, rubbing the kid's hair.

I arranged for protective custody for the kid and we called it a day. We would need to go over his statement again in the morning, arrange to talk with Donohue in vice and the D.A. and arrange for a psychiatrist to make an evaluation of this kid. But that could all wait until tomorrow.

We finished briefing Dobey. Starsky was just about falling asleep in the chair in Dobey's office.

"Hutchinson, get your partner the hell out of here." I jumped up and tapped Starsky on the shoulder. He woke up and promptly knocked his right hand against the desk as he got up.

"Ah, fu…shit!" Starsky was awake enough now to realize where he was. But slamming his hand on the desk had to start his hand throbbing.

"Let's go, klutz," I said to my best friend.

"You got nerve," he quickly replied.

We walked out to the car and Starsky headed for the passenger side again. I followed him, knowing that he was unable to pull the car door shut with his injured hand, especially after the whack he just took in Dobey's office.

"You wanna go to your place or mine?" I asked.

"I think mine. I'm gonna need a big bed so I don't slam my hand again. You know, you're right, I am a dummy." Starsky smiled at me.

"No you're not. You weren't awake. It could happen to anyone. You know, you could have my bed, and my sofa's a lot more comfortable than yours."

"You don't have to stay with me. I don't need a babysitter, Hutch. It's just a sprained hand."

"Well, it's not just a sprained hand. It's also bruised ribs, and you know you have to be careful with them, too." I was seeing the beginnings of that resigned look that I knew so well, starting to form on my partners face.

"Hutch, if it'll make ya feel better, then I'll stay at your place tonight. Satisfied?" Starsky was really getting good at condescending, friendly though it was.

We arrived at Venice Place and walked tiredly into my house. Starsky practically fell down on the sofa, he was so exhausted. I was only degrees behind him in the exhaustion department. I heaved him up, pulling on his left arm and told him, "To bed, young man."

"You're a goof," Starsky replied, heading to the bathroom. I made up the sofa while Starsky finished up in the john, and then I took my turn. By the time I finished up, I came out and found Starsky in bed.

I felt in his jacket pocket for the "night-time" pills, and took two of them with a glass of water to my partner. I knew he was too tired to remember to take them. I sat on the edge of the bed. "Hey, Starsk, wake up a minute." He groaned, and peeked out his very droopy eyelids. "Come on, take these, they'll help you sleep and take some of the edge off.

He took them then lay back down and said, "Thanks. Goodnight, Hutch." He was asleep almost before he finished saying my name.

It was good to have him near. This wasn't a big scare, when it's measured against some of the other life or death situations we've faced. But it was a stressful day, and I was glad to be able to finish it up with my partner. And we'd start it up again tomorrow to try to tie up the loose ends on this case.


	2. Chapter 2

It took us longer to get to the cabin than we expected. The traffic up to the mountains was bumper to bumper. I guess we should have planned to be on the road longer, considering it was a holiday weekend. Starsky and I had never been able to take a vacation on a summertime holiday since our days in uniform. I think Dobey took pity on us and was also rewarding us for a job well done on the Kohlman murder investigation.

The day after placing Wes Andrews in protective custody Starsky and I worked with Donohue's team in vice and the D.A. to work through any concerns that vice might have about proceeding with murder charges against Kohlman. Their sting operation had failed, but we wanted to make sure there was no more that vice was looking for that a murder charge against their prime target would jeopardize.

"Nope, we're pretty washed up where Kohlman is concerned. Their illegal movements up and down the coast have cooled for now and our contacts are pretty dried up. If you've got a case for murder, then I think you should go for it." Donohue sounded reasonable and not at all like the bonehead I took him for previously. I noticed Starsky in the back smirking at my inner pain. I still owed him, and I was working on how he would pay.

"Good." The D.A. chimed in at this point. Looking to Starsky and me he said, "You fellas have put together a pretty tight case here. And after finding the murder weapon in Kohlman's bodyguard's apartment, we've got everything we need for a conviction."

With the statement from Andrews, and the fact that the bodies were found so near the Lincoln warehouse and the victims' association with Kohlman, we'd been able to obtain a warrant to search the Lincoln Industries offices and warehouse, as well as the homes of Kohlman and his closest associates. Kohlman's offices and warehouse yielded little; Donohue was right about Kohlman cooling things down for now. He had moved anything illicit out of the warehouse and was only storing cheap, imported gift items in the warehouse at the time of our search. But we got lucky with the bodyguard. It's good to be able to count on the stupidity of criminals.

We also had Andrews evaluated by a psychiatrist. He was, indeed, nominally retarded. But he was found capable of understanding most everything he was presented during his examination and he was deemed a reliable witness by the D.A. And with many of Kohlman's associates arrested on conspiracy to commit murder charges, we felt that Andrews' life was less at risk, although he was still in protective custody for the duration of the preliminaries and through the trial.

Starsky had been complaining about the heat for some weeks now. The oppressive heat lingered in Bay City all summer this year, and my suggestion to head up to the mountains to cool off was received better than expected. My partner did have terms that he needed met before he would agree to go.

"One, we are not stayin' in Dobey's cabin. I want somethin' with a little more of the modern conveniences. I gotta have a bathroom IN OUR ROOM, Hutch. I'm not walkin' outside to get to the john. Two, no snakes. Whatever we gotta do, you gotta make sure that there won't be snakes in our room. Three, and this is very important, Hutch, I am not gonna be runnin' around all over the place on this vacation. Do you know what the definition of 'vacation' is, huh? I'm gonna tell ya. I got this from Webster's: **1** a respite or a time of respite from something **: INTERMISSION 2 a** a scheduled period during which activity (as of a court or school) is suspended **b** a period of exemption from work granted to an employee for rest and relaxation." Let me interject here that Starsky was reading this from what appeared to be a mimeograph of a page from an actual dictionary. Starsky was always good at research. My partner continued on,

"**3** a period spent away from home or business in travel or recreation had a restful _vacation_ at the beach **4** an act or an instance of vacating."

"Are you done?" I asked patiently.

"Yeah. Oh, And we're takin' my car. I'm not going up there in that disaster only you would call a car." Humph.

"Starsky, are you sure you want to go on vacation with me? And by the way, that third definition allows for 'active' events when it refers to recreation."

"I'm not sayin' we have to do nothing. Just, do we have to be doin' somethin' all the time. I really want to get in some relaxing on this trip. No non-stop hiking, fishing, sight-seeing…"

"Sight-seeing? How is sight-seeing going to tax your vacation?"

"Hutch, will ya try to understand? I just wanna spend some time doin' nothin'." I think my partner was really getting frustrated with me. And this was exactly what I wanted as I dropped the brochure in his lap.

"What's this?" Starsky asked.

"It's a brochure, dummy. Can ya read?"

"I can read." He looked over the brochure. "This looks pretty nice." He kept on reading. "Hey, they got a restaurant in the lodge. We won't have to rely on your stellar fishing kills, I mean skills, or that desiccated goat's tail. I think we're gonna have a great vacation."

I was happy to see him happy. We had worked hard the last few weeks to get the case in the hands of the D.A. with Starsky spending lots of extra time with Wes Andrews. He had taken a liking to the kid. He even tried to contact the kid's parents to see if there was a possibility of reconciliation. Starsky found out that the kid ran away from home, basically because of sheer neglect. Apparently the parents simply could not make the time to spend with their 'damaged' child. This is what the mother told my partner on his visit to Andrews' family home. He had given up on the attempts to reach them by phone – none of his calls were being returned. He came back from the visit angry and depressed. And he refused to agree to the vacation until he was assured that Wes would be staying in a nice place with people who would treat him with kindness and respect. He also made sure that Wes would have activities to keep him occupied, with the help of some of Terri's old colleagues.

We arrived at the lodge a good two hours after normal check-in. Luckily, the front desk was still open, even though we had been told that we needed to check in by 7PM or we would have to make arrangements to pick the keys up elsewhere. We got checked in and made our way to the cabin. It was already dark enough that we could not really tell what the view from the cabin was like, but we could tell from the winding, tree-lined, constantly rising road that we would be high enough to have some magnificent views.

The restaurant was serving until 10PM, so we quickly dumped our bags and headed over for a bite to eat.

"Now this is the life," my partner said as we were escorted to our table. "Nice restaurant, a bar, the cabin looked real cozy and we have a bathroom. What more could ya want Hutch?"

"Yeah, it's a nice place. Are you glad you came?" I could tell my partner was finally relaxing from the very long drive. Our plan included taking turns with the driving, but I fell asleep on my partner and by the time I woke up, Starsky had decided it was too dark for me to drive his car on the windy mountain roads.

"Absolutely, partner. Thanks for finding the place." We were only staying for four nights, as it was a little more expensive in order to accommodate Starsky's demands.

"I'm definitely ready for a steak." My partner's appetite was back full force almost two years after Gunther's goons shot him. There was a while during his recovery where he couldn't keep much food down for long. It seemed like he would be forever changed by what Gunther had paid for. Looking at my partner now, fully recovered, that period still seemed like only yesterday to me.

"Starsk, isn't it a little late for steak?" It was about twenty minutes to ten.

"Hey, I had a long drive. I've worked up an appetite, and I didn't get any help from you earlier, so I think I'll pass on your help in picking out my food."

"Fine, just don't come crying to me tomorrow when you're not feeling so good."

"Okay, pal. I'll keep that in mind," Starsky grinned happily, reviewing the menu.

Bottom of Form

We enjoyed a nice dinner, with some terrific wine and relaxing conversation. We talked about our plans for the next day. We passed on coffee and dessert in exchange for the chance to get to bed by eleven.

We had agreed to sleep in, although sleeping in for us turned out to be only about eight in the morning. The sun coming through the picture window woke us both up. The layout of the cabin was such that there was a bed in the main living area and another one in the loft. Starsky was the first up, and he was standing looking out the window when I awoke.

"What are you looking at?" I asked. He was very still and quiet. I wondered if he indeed wasn't feeling well.

"Hutch, ya gotta come look at this," my partner said quietly, mesmerized by something out that window.

I got up and stretched and headed down from the loft. I had lost the coin toss, a legitimate coin toss. Starsky won't let me toss the coin anymore. He says I cheat. So I had to take the loft, which was fine since the bed turned out to be pretty comfortable.

I walked up next to my partner. "Wow." I couldn't speak beyond that.

"Yeah." Starsky was equally speechless.

"I didn't know about this. This is incredible." We were in the Sierra Nevada mountain range. We drove pretty far east, and I knew that we had driven kind of high up in the mountains. The view was breathtaking - right from our cabin. I really cannot describe with appropriate eloquence how it felt to be there at that moment, enjoying it with my partner. It was special. It was more than that.

"There's a coupla chairs out there. Why don't I make some coffee and we'll go and enjoy the view?" Starsky smiled as he headed over to the kitchenette.

"Great." I pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt and went outside to get a better look around outside the cabin. It was amazing what we missed when we came in last night. The heavily tree-lined road continued all the way up to the cabin. There was no way to tell from the approach what wonders the back of the cabin held. We had really lucked out with this place.

Starsky walked up behind me. "Here." He handed me a steaming mug of coffee. "This is great. I could sit and look at this for hours. Talk about unwindin' and relaxin'."

We sat down in the Adirondack-style chairs that were perfectly facing east over the mountains. "You know Starsk, you're gonna have to get up early enough to take some photos of the sunrise. It must be magnificent, based on what we saw this morning."

"Yeah. Since we decided to be lazy this morning, maybe tomorrow we can get up early and get some shots."

"What do you mean we? I don't think you need me to get up to take pictures. Maybe I'll head out in the morning for some fishing while you do some picture taking and exploring. Maybe you can go up to the lodge and find out what other activities might be available to us. Relaxing ones." I had to add the last, just for Starsky's reaction. I wasn't disappointed.

"Ya know, if you were as funny as you thought, you'd be opening for Sinatra." I laughed and returned my eyes to the Sierra Nevadas. It was going to be a great day.

We lounged around, made toast and spent much of the morning just watching nature from our perfect spot in the chairs facing the mountains. We each took a shower and then we decided to take a leisurely hike around the grounds. It was a few miles back down to the lodge, and there were obvious trails just up the road for us to try. We decided to try the nearby trails, as we were intending this to be just for light exploration. Starsky had his camera. We were both dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, as the sun was warming the mountain nicely, though thankfully nothing like the oppressive heat back home.

We started into the trailhead and noticed an encased sign with a map of this particular trail. Or rather trails. It seems that we had two options. One trail went up and seemed to be hugging the edge of the mountain. The posted brochure described 'stunning mountain views'. Since we had that right outside our cabin, we decided to try the other trail. It headed in a fairly level path that, again according to the brochure, would take us through beautiful old growth forests and 'provide an amazing microcosm of the assorted flora to been found in the Sierra Nevada range.'

Starsky took the lead. "Come on Hutch, keep up, will ya? We don't want to take all day here."

"Starsk, slow down. You need to enjoy nature. Aren't you the one who wanted the leisurely vacation?" My non nature-loving partner was starting to get on my nerves. "You need to enjoy some of these sights. Some of these trees are huge. And this isn't even the part of the Sierras with the largest trees to be found."

"It's always such an education spending time with you, partner." I think Starsky was being serious, but it was hard to read since he had his back to me when he said it. I decided to assume that he was being sincere.

"I'm happy to transfer what knowledge I have to you, o partner of mine." I said it light-heartedly and meant it. Starsky took it as intended.

"I always tell people everything I know I learned from my partner. Except for how to buy a car." Starsky had bested me on this particular repartee. I was going to have to raise the level of chitchat to catch up.

"If you learn well you could become as wise as the master, my son."

"Why don't you learn to pay attention?" At that, Starsky shot away in a flash, heading through the forest and over a slight hill. I began to run after him. If he was playing hide and seek in the woods I wasn't going to let him get too far ahead or too far out of my sight.

I ran, cresting the hill only moments after Starsky. He lunged at me from the ground, behind a large boulder. I jumped and slipped and fell heavily on my butt. Actually, I fell right on my coccyx, and it hurt.

"Damn it, Starsky, what are you doing?" I wasn't as mad as I sounded.

He was laughing at my fall. I didn't see anything that funny. "Sorry, Hutch. Man, you fell pretty hard. Does it hurt?"

"Of course it hurts, you dummy. You know, we're climbing on rock here. There's nothing soft to land on when you fall." I was getting sorer the longer this conversation went on.

Starsky looked a little more concerned this time. Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't think I'd spook you enough to fall."

"I wasn't spooked. I was just taken off guard. I think I'm okay, although my back, uh, tailbone is sore."

Starsky kneeled down next to me. He had a very serious look on his face, and he was clearly upset. "I really am sorry, Hutch. I never would have done it if I thought this would happen. You know I wouldn't want to be responsible for you getting hurt on vacation. Do you want me to help ya up?" The sincerity and concern emanating from my partner immediately made me sorry for how I'd acted just seconds ago.

"Yeah, give me a hand." Starsky lifted me up and we decided to head back to the cabin. It was slow going, as any tripping or jarring movements really caused an ache in my tailbone. I knew it was just a bruise; I hadn't fallen hard enough or on anything sharp enough to cause any severe damage. I think Starsky will get what he wants: a nice relaxing rest of the day.

Unfortunately, Starsky couldn't relax, even after we got back to the cabin. He doted on me, and bugged me a little too frequently with questions about how I felt. 'Does your back hurt? Does it hurt more or less now than when you first fell? Do you want some aspirin? Are you thirsty? Hungry? Do you want me to check with the lodge and see if they can send a doctor? Are you sure you don't want something to eat?' It went on for some time when finally he said something that was worth listening to.

"I'm feeling a little hungry myself." Starsky, always thinking.

"Okay, okay. If I agree to eat something, will you promise to shut up for a while?"

"Um, sure, Hutch. I didn't realize I was bothering ya so much. I'll make us some sandwiches." Starsky left, looking a little dejected. It's actually surprising how little it takes to hurt Starsky. He's really quite sensitive, although he hides it well under his tough cop façade. I'd tell him that he had nothing to feel guilty about when he came back to the living room area.

He came back with a large plate of sandwiches and a couple of beers. He set everything down on the coffee table within easy reach.

"Thanks, partner." He just nodded his head in assent, but didn't say anything. "You know, you don't have to feel guilty about what happened this afternoon. It was just a simple accident, and I'm feeling pretty good, so just forget about it, okay?" I wanted him to stop worrying about this for the rest of the trip.

"I really didn't think about what might have happened. I'm sorry you got hurt. I need to think through some of these things better before I go off half cocked and hurt you again."

"No, no, no." Hutch didn't like hearing this from his partner. "Starsky, it was an accident. Please forget about it. I don't want you to act any differently than normal. Your spontaneity and ability to think on your feet are part of what make you so much fun to spend time with and part of what makes you a good cop. I think you're over-thinking this time. Give it a rest. You're on vacation!"

Starsky had his head down, but looked up and smiled. "Okay. I'll give it a rest. Finish eatin' and then I'll set up the chess board outside and we can play while the sun goes down."

"Sounds good." We finished up our late lunch and played a few games of chess. I'll admit that my head wasn't totally on the game. The scenery was distracting, no doubt. Starsky beat me pretty good and pretty fast three out of three.

We spent more of the day just lounging around, reading a little, and then talking about what we would do with the last part of our week off. Since we were only spending four nights here we had the rest of the week off and would be home. We pretty much decided to just play the later part of the week by ear.

After another terrific dinner at the lodge, we turned in early in anticipation of tomorrow's early morning wake-up call.

My portable alarm went off at 4:30 in the morning. I again slept great, even with the remaining slight ache from yesterday's fall. Starsky too appeared to have slept well and was not as cranky as he normally would have been getting up at such an early hour.

"I'm gonna head out to my chair and sit and wait for the sunrise. Don't want to miss anything." He had his camera and case with him. I think he planned on taking a lot of pictures this morning.

"Good. I'm getting dressed for fishing. I'll stop and see you before I go." I dressed for fishing, layering well as there was coolness in the early morning air that would certainly be gone by the time I finished my excursion.

Starsky was sitting in the chair, looking a little chilled. He had gone out in his pajamas, so I brought a throw out to him. "You're gonna catch a cold sitting out here in this cool air." I handed him the throw. He quickly got up and put it around his shoulders and pulled it tight in front.

"Thanks, but I don't think I'd catch a cold. Hey, you're taking the car to the landing, aren't ya? That's a long walk with all your gear."

"Sure, if you don't mind. You sure you want to be without wheels all morning?" I had planned to be back from the fishing trip by noon.

"I'll be fine. I'm just gonna take some pictures, grab a shower, lounge around, maybe walk to the lodge and back. I don't need a car for that."

"Okay, then I'm outta here. See ya around noon." Starsky looked like he could fall asleep in his chair, all bundled up like he was.

"Have fun. And good luck out there. Hey, is it bad luck to wish you good luck? You know, how it's bad luck to wish an actor good luck when he's goin' on stage?" Where does he come up with this stuff?

"Uh, no, I think it's okay to wish me luck. See ya." I was off.

The fishing was great that morning. I caught about ten fish, throwing back most of them, but keeping three nice sized trout. And the lodge offered to prepare it for us that evening for dinner, which I figured Starsky would prefer over me trying to skin the fish myself. I rolled up to the cabin in the Torino and put my gear on the porch before entering.

Starsky was curled up on the sofa, a magazine about ready to fall off his lap to the floor. I grabbed it as quietly as I could, but he woke anyway.

"Hey, you're back. How'd it go?" He looked like he'd been asleep for some time.

"Pretty good. I got three trout. They're going to cook them up for us tonight for dinner."

"Hey, that's great. This is a nice place, Hutch." He looked pretty happy himself right then.

"So, how was your morning?" I surmised that it was basically picture taking and sleeping. I know my partner pretty well.

"Don't laugh. I did take a lot of pictures. The sunrise really was incredible. The colors changing from light pinks to orange and dark red. They're gonna be great! And then I sat down again and promptly fell asleep. And I woke up freezing. So I came in and took the hottest shower on the planet to warm up. I felt so toasty in my sweats that I just fell asleep. I musta been tired."

"Well, we've had a rough couple of weeks. So, you never made it down to the lodge, huh?"

"Ah, damn, Hutch, I forgot about that. I can run down there now and look into other activities."

"No, let's do this. I'll take a shower, and then we can drive down and have lunch and check things out."

We drove down and had lunch and picked up some information on activities in the area. We were told by the front desk clerk that there was an old-fashioned train excursion that was about three hours round trip. There would be a couple of stops along the way, mostly for picture-taking opportunities, and light refreshments in the dining car. It sounded perfect to both of us. I was tired from my morning's fishing and Starsky liked the idea of taking more pictures without having to hike to do it.

The train pulled out at two o'clock sharp. Right on time. It was an old steam-powered locomotive, and the tracks hugged along the edges of cliffs and sneaked through some pretty valleys. The conductor stopped the train on a very narrow, elevated bridge. Starsky grabbed my forearm as he looked down to the creek below.

"Hutch, what're we doin' stopped here?"

One of our fellow passengers piped in, "This is one of the regular stops. Really freaks people out who are afraid of heights." Starsky scowled at him. I responded, "I can see why. But if it's a regular stop, I guess there's nothing to worry about." Starsky eased up on my arm. The train stayed on the bridge for about five minutes while everybody took their chance at the windows taking pictures. It was a neat old train, old enough so that the windows opened up all the way. This train would not meet any current regulations in a city these days. But it was great for sight seeing.

The train continued, and Starsky was feeling a little sick, so we decided to walk to the dining car to see if they had any ginger ale to settle his stomach. It's funny how my partner will climb a fire escape to chase a suspect or scramble up something even higher to help a citizen in trouble, but he really does not take well to heights. It's like he has this special danger mechanism in his head that clicks on and blocks out the fact that he's as high up as he is when he's on the job.

With Starsky's stomach now settled, we headed back to our car and just as we sat down, the train stopped again. Through the loud speaker the conductor informed us that this would be a half hour stop. We could all get off of the train and walk around, but would need to be back on the train in thirty minutes. The train would depart again at exactly 3:20PM. He also said that if you were here to catch the trailhead, this is where you should get off the train.

"People get dumped out here and start hikin'?" Starsky asked. "What're they crazy? It would take days to walk back to civilization from here."

"That's what they do, Starsk. They hike, and then camp out for the night, and then continue on the next day."

"Why?" Starsky just couldn't fathom it.

"Some people do it for the beauty, others for the exercise, some others for the opportunity to explore wilderness. Some others just for the challenge. These forests are our wilderness, Starsk. We've killed an awful lot of what used to be wilderness. People need to be one with nature."

"Well, I can be one with nature without havin' to camp out at night and carry all that stuff to boot."

I looked over where my partner was looking. There were three guys loading themselves up with gear. The amounts of stuff they were carrying didn't look like what you'd need just for camping.

"Starsk, something's not right about that group. They've got way too much gear to be hiking and camping. They couldn't carry that much stuff very far. Something's up."

"Whaddya think it is? Are they carryin' drugs, did they rob a bank?" My partner got right down to business, even though we certainly weren't equipped to make any arrests. I had my shield, but Starsky's shield and our weapons were locked in the trunk of the Torino.

"Let's get closer and see if we can overhear any conversation, or maybe with a closer look we'll see something in their gear." Starsky and I ventured toward the trio and stopped just near them, looking at the trailhead signs. We were close enough to touch them now, and they were careful not to say anything incriminating. We also didn't see anything hanging out from their gear that looked suspicious. Just the fact that they were planning to hike with so much stuff was suspicious enough.

The trio headed down the trail. I looked to my partner. "Well, what're we gonna do?" He asked, knowing full well that we would be following after them.

"Let's go talk to the conductor." We headed to the conductor and introduced ourselves.

"Sure fellas, what I can I do ya for?" He was a friendly guy, perfectly suited to his current job.

"Sir…." I was cut off.

"Just call me Nate. We don't go in for the fancy-shmancy monikers here." Starsky looked at me and mouthed 'monikers'?

"Well, Nate, we think that three guys just left this train and are heading down the trail either with something illegal or planning to do something illegal. We're going to head after them and see what we can find out. Is there any way you could hold the train?"

"No can do. We've got a schedule, we promise people they will be back by a certain time, and we aim to serve the people who are kind enough to join on this ride."

"Okay. Well, when does the next train come back to return to it's origin?" I asked.

"It doesn't come back on this set of tracks. It returns along a track farther down in the valley from here. You'd cross it if you followed that trail them fellas went down."

"Okay. Uh, when does the next train stop here tomorrow?"

"We have a morning run, the train would be pulling up here around nine forty-five in the AM."

"I looked at Starsky. I could tell he was dreading what was going to go down, and he just stood there waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Well, can you radio back to your offices and get a hold of the police and explain that two Bay City police detectives are tracking some possible felons and could use some back-up?" Starsky closed his eyes, absorbing the implications of what I was saying.

"I can definitely do that, but we don't have a radio on the train. But there's a telephone up at the end of the line where we turn the train to catch the track back home. I could call it in from there."

"Great." Starsky said, not sounding at all like he meant it.

"Good." I said. "Do you happen to have any supplies on the train that would help us if we're stuck here in the woods overnight?"

"If?" Starsky asked, knowing there was no 'if' about it.

"I can get ya a couple of jackets from the gift shop on the dining car and I've got a couple of blankets and we can get ya some bags of chips and some candy and sodas and we'll wrap 'em in the blankets for ya. If you're gonna do this, I'll have the concession girl put together a couple of sandwiches for ya."

"No trout, huh?" My partner was getting irritable.

"Okay. That all sounds good. Let's get moving."

We were on the trail in no time. Nate was a most efficient fellow. Before we got started, I got an earful from Starsky.

"Ya know, our vacation is shot. I know we gotta do this, but there is no way with this situation that we are gonna get to enjoy the rest of our time here. We're gonna be trackin' these guys all night…." He just about shivered when he said it. "And once we do catch 'em in whatever they're doin' we're gonna have to hook up with local law enforcement, to say nothing of the paperwork."

I just looked at him. He knew we had no choice. He was just letting off steam. I felt the same way.

"Come on," he said and headed up the trail.

We were able to keep on their tail, but kept a safe distance back, and stayed just off the trail whenever room allowed. We made our way along the trail, for the most, through the trees, but occasionally were forced back on the trail, either because the trail narrowed between large boulders, or there was just too much rock to navigate over fast enough to keep up. We were walking through the forest when I tripped and fell forward into a pretty large sapling that made a tremendous crack when I hit it. We looked at each other, realizing the echo from the cracking sound was pretty significant. We swiftly made our way further into the woods and were able to hide behind some trees when one of the guys we were following came back down the trail. We could see him peering into the forest, looking to one side of the trail, and then the other. They had to have heard the noise and were no doubt looking for us. He appeared to be looking straight at us at one point, but eventually seemed to decide there was nothing out there and ventured back to his buddies.

Starsky started to move out. "That was close, partner," I said to him. "We'll have to be more careful from here on out."

We moved on, and it was beginning to get darker the further into the woods we went. It was almost six o'clock, and the threesome looked like they were going to make camp. They began unpacking some things from the backpacks. We quietly made our way as close as we could to check on what they were looking at.

"Cocaine. You were right, Hutch. A lot of it, too. I don't think they're stopping here to make camp."

"You're right." Starsky and I froze in place. "Okay, turn around. Slowly."

I could tell that my partner was going to try something. Before I had a chance to figure it out, Starsky had twisted around and leapt up, heaving a blow to the guy's face. The guy had a gun in his hand and it went off, the bullet catching the tree just above Starsky's head. I slammed the guy's arm up, double-fisted, and the gun went off again, sending the bullet high toward the sky. Starsky gave him another hard blow to his face and knocked him out. We both quickly whirled around to see what our three suspects were up to.

Fortunately, two of them were trying to stuff the drugs back in the backpacks and skip out of there. But one of them was barreling straight ahead, full force toward Starsky. He didn't have time to get out of the way, and the guy gave him a head tackle right in the gut. He flew through the air about a dozen feet before landing hard on the ground. The guy was dazed, so I grabbed him and punched him a few times, slamming him down on the ground. I grabbed the rope that was being used to stow the supplies that Nate had given us and tied the guy's wrists behind him. He was woozy enough from the hits he took that he wouldn't get far anyway. I noticed Starsky trying to get up. He seemed okay, so I grabbed the gun that had been pulled on us and went to see what I could do about the other two.

They were heading down the trail, not quite running. I ran down the trail, then yelled, "Police!" and fired a warning shot in the air. They stopped dead in their tracks. "O..OK, man. We give up." They both lifted their hands up.

I took the rope from Starsky's bundle and tied one up, the other I tied up with some of the straps from the backpacks. I worked quickly so I could head over to see how Starsky was.

As I got close, I noticed Starsky was still lying on the ground, but the guy I had knocked out was gone. I heard a groan coming from my partner. "Starsk?" I crouched down next to him to see what was wrong.

"Uuh, Hutch?" He was looking a little glassy eyed. And he was holding his side. He started to get up again, and then he got the most determined look in his eyes. He yelled, "Hutch!" and I immediately realized he was warning me. The gunman jumped on my back and grabbed for my throat, trying to strangle me. My partner shot up and grabbed for the guy with all his might. He jostled him enough that the guy lost his grip enough on my throat that I was able to toss him over my shoulder. He landed roughly on the ground. I grabbed the gun and told him, "We can do this your way, or we can do it mine." I had the gun aimed straight between his eyes.

"Get down, on your knees, hands behind your back. Starsk, grab his arms." Starsky was on the ground again already, but he did as I asked. I grabbed the guy's jacket and unzipped it, then unbuttoned his shirt, and pulled both down his arms, his clothes serving as a straight jacket. "If you move, I will shoot you." He didn't move.

I went to Starsky. Initially he didn't seem any worse for his most recent feat of saving my life. But he was still in pain from the hit he took earlier, and as I looked at his face I noticed his eyes weren't focusing. He seemed even less aware than he had before the gunman attacked me.

"Starsky, hey, Starsk, how're you feeling?" He was blinking, probably trying to focus his eyes. He might suffered a concussion when his head hit the ground.

"Oh, Hutch. This ain't what I had in mind for my relaxing vacation." I had him sitting up against a tree. "Everything's spinnin'. Ugh, I'm gonna be sick." He leaned over and vomited his lunch. The dizziness associated with concussion was making him nauseous. Hopefully, throwing up would make him feel a little better. I moved him away from the offending fumes.

"Any better?" He looked up at me, although he kept his eyes closed. Doesn't feel like I'm spinnin' so much with my eyes closed." I sat down next to him. He leaned his head against my shoulder.

"Hold on, pal. I wanted to check out your side. You got it pretty good there."

"Mmm. Nah, it's okay. Probably just a bad bruise. Head hurts, feels better leanin' against your shoulder." He was able to explain his injuries, and he sounded pretty lucid, so I left it at that.

"Yeah, well you definitely have a concussion. Let me get up a minute. I'll be right back." I went to get our bundles, just in case Starsky felt like eating or drinking something, but mostly for the blankets. We were going to be waiting for some while, maybe all night, and we might as well be comfortable. The perps could all freeze out here as far as I was concerned.

I sat next to my partner again. His head was on my shoulder in no time. I covered us with both blankets, tucking in under our legs and butts to keep the morning moisture out. Starsky had nodded off. I was going to have to wake him occasionally to make sure he was okay. But for now, I let him sleep.

The cavalry showed up at around two in the morning. They came on four-wheel drive vehicles, since the trail didn't allow for anything larger. The state police gave us a thermos of hot chocolate, and there was a medic with them who took a look at Starsky. He did appear to only have a bruise on his side, and he did have a concussion. The medic didn't have any drugs with him to help Starsky feel any better, so they loaded us into one of the four-wheelers and got us down to a small clinic near the lodge in somewhat over an hour.

It was a bouncy, uncomfortable ride, and Starsky was feeling sick again. And his head was killing him. The doctor gave him a shot for the pain and for the nausea and prescribed bed rest for the next couple of days. The doctor suggested that we wait at least a day before doing any driving. But he assured us that Starsky would be okay in a few days.

The lodge manager had been informed of what happened, and when we got back to the cabin, he met us there and apologized profusely for the trouble we had been put to. We thanked him, but I excused us pretty quickly, explaining that Starsky should be lying down. He graciously left us and we entered the cabin.

As we entered the cabin, I noticed the configuration of the room had changed. Instead of the bed being in the back of the room, away from the picture window, the lodge staff had moved it to where the living area furniture had been. The bed was now right in front of the window, with a perfect of view of the sunrise. By the time we finished up at the trail site, got down to the clinic and finished there, it was about 5:30 in the morning.

Starsky smiled. "That was nice of 'em, wasn't it, Hutch?"

"Yeah, very thoughtful. Since you have to stay in bed for the next day or so, you might as well have a nice view."

"Well, I wanted a chance to relax." He yawned a huge yawn. "I guess I should be careful what I wish for, huh?"

"I don't know about that, buddy. I do know that you're getting in to your jammies and you're gonna go to sleep." He was looking dead tired, and had been forced to stay awake far too long.

"I won't be able to fall asleep with this view. I'm just gonna watch it for a little while." He had gotten in to his pajamas and was under the covers, as I got him some pillows to prop him up for the light show. I went to the kitchen to put some water on for tea.

He hadn't lasted long. The light show was spectacular, but my friend was oblivious to it.

He had probably saved my life tonight. It was instinctual for him to jump up and try to bring that guy down off of me, even though he was hurt and in pain. People ask me sometimes how we have stayed partners so long. 'Don't you get tired of each other?' they ask. I can honestly say that my partner, my best friend, is what keeps this partnership going. He gives me a reason every day to want to be with him, work with him and play with him. Nobody cares about me the way Starsky does. Nobody thinks about me the way he does. There's nothing like that feeling.

The End.


End file.
